I’VE had this week off to look after the nipper before he goes back to school.

I seriously can’t wait to get back to work.

Normally, Mrs Short is on hand to keep a lid on things and make sure the day to day running of the family is all clockwork and tickety boo.

But this week, with her at work, it has just been me and the boy. And to tell you the truth, I’ve found it a bit of a struggle.

At work you can always snatch a five minute chat with someone, grab a coffee from the machine or even just nip to the loo.

I’ve not been able to do any of that stuff – he is relentless. He won’t let me out of his sight.

It feels like one of those East European stag dos where the stag gets handcuffed to a midget.

If I try to leave the front room for a minute he demands to come as well, or just shouts after me at the top of his voice until I come back.

Always asking questions, questions, questions, or just jumping on me. He loves jumping on me, especially when I least expect it. How can someone so small make me feel so much physical pain? Although when I said exactly those words to Mrs Short on her return from work, she shot me a look of pure evil and started banging on about childbirth or something. Whatever.

Anyhow, the fact the rain’s been a bit biblical this week has meant we have been largely stuck indoors too.

By Monday, I had run out of creative things to keep him occupied. There are only so many cookies you can bake or pictures you can draw. And for a kid who got 1,001 toys and games for Christmas, I‘m amazed that he hasn’t wanted to play with any of them this week.

By Tuesday we took down the tree and decorations a bit earlier than planned, just to give him something to do. Then we chopped it up for the recycling bin – he was surprisingly adept with an axe and saw for a four-year-old. Still, he was finished in 40 minutes and back shouting and jumping relentlessly.

By Wednesday I was going stir crazy so we chucked on our waterproofs and wellies for a ‘nature walk‘ in the woods near our house. We might as well have just got in a cold, muddy bath and started hitting each other with thorny brambles. It was awful. There was so much aimless trudging and so much water, it felt like I was in the Poseidon Adventure. If Gene Hackman’s part had gone to a chattering child in Ben 10 wellies, that is. We managed to get lost in a wood not much bigger than a football pitch, saw one nervous, wet squirrel, a crow (in the distance) and a bird’s nest with some beer cans in it.

When we got back we were wet, cold, muddy and covered in scratches.

But you know something? It was almost all worthwhile. For as we sat in front of the fire with our hot chocolate, he turned to me, smiled, and said: “I’ve had a brilliant week with you, Daddy.”

It melted my heart. These few days, I thought, encapsulated everything that fatherhood is about. Then he quickly followed it up with: “So now can I have a biscuit?”